"Don't know, but at least it's good to know that we're not alone out here. Oh great," I exclaimed, looking through my binocs, "He's gonna run right into them."

"I don't have a clear shot from here, and even if I did, I'm no sniper," replied Mike.

"Me too. I prefer it up close and personal. Come on, we have a POW to rescue."

The aliens took all of 45 seconds to capture the marine, who dropped what seemed like an unconscious companion and was in the process of giving our fellow snipers of the 88th a proper burial. They beat him up pretty good, but it was apparent that they wanted him alive.

We checked our clips and supplies. We had been on a recon mission to find out what happened to our two sniper units assigned to recon this valley . The rest of our company was about a day behind us, moving wounded and supplies. We checked our gear and began to head out. At least we knew where they were taking that marine. And if we hurried, we could intercept them at a section of valley that was unusually narrow.

We managed to arrive before the alien party.

"Ok, you set up here. Hopefully they will be traveling two by two through that section of pass. You should be able to take out the first two. I'll set up over on that ridge behind them. As you take out the first two, the last two will hopefully drop our boy to arm themselves. At that point, I'll be able to drop those two. It's the Cov in the middle I'm worried about. If he has his weapon ready, he could get the drop on you, me, or our pal. And remember, we only have a few clips of ammo left, so make your shots count."

I proceeded to the ridge on the other side of the pass, and planted myself behind some brush. The day was clear, with a few scattered clouds. I checked my weapon and started to play different scenarios in my head. I knew Mike was doing the same. I was still troubled by the alien I knew was going to be in the middle of the pack. If he was experienced, he was going to get a shot off. I began flicking my safety on and off to pass the time while I was thinking, when I heard the gutteral tongue of our enemy. I signaled to Mike of their approach and readied my weapon.

Two of the aliens emerged with their weapons at the ready, scanning, yet walking too quickly to take notice of me. As I feared, the alien in the middle had his weapon at the ready, mumbling something to the two in front. The last two were carrying our marine. I couldn't tell if he was dead or unconscious. Just after passing me, the middle alien shouted, and the entire party stopped. The alien was looking at the ground, then looked in my direction. Damn! My footprints.

The plan was over. I stood up and plugged the alien in the forehead. His body collapsed in a slimy heap, never able to get a shot off. The two aliens in front brought their weapons to bear. I pointed my weapon away from them and to the two aliens in the back. They had dropped the marine and were readying their weapons. I was trusting Mike to take out the two front aliens. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the aliens arch is chest out and stiffen. Looks like Mike's bullets hit their mark. The other alien turned. It quickly doubled over, then seemed to fling on it's back. Mike had hit him in the gut, then chest.

Meanwhile, the two rear aliens drew their knives. I looked in disbelief. I started to smile, then laugh outright. Then they threw their knives at me. Instinctively, a turned to avoid them, but one found it's mark in my right thigh, searing the flesh. I had to drop my weapon to remove the knife. Why couldn't they hit my other leg? At least I wouldn't have felt that! I collapsed to one knee, picked up my weapon and tried to aim at the alien on the right. The aliens had already drawn their weapons and were aiming at me. As I fired my weapon, Mike was finally in position and fired his. To our chagrin, we had hit the same alien. The other one was about to fire when he jerked forward. He ended up firing a hot energy blast just above my head, steaming up my face shield. Our pal had come through, kicking the back of his leg at the right time. Two well-placed shots disposed of the last of those bastards.

A few seconds passed, each of us looking at one another. I attempted to stand, but couldn't. I was the first to speak.

"What the hell are you doing, Mike? You know I always take the right one. You almost got me killed you idiot!"

"What are you talking about? I got the left one."

After thinking about it, his left was my right. After realizing our folly, we started to laugh.

Our new friend then spoke up, "That's ok, guys, I'm alright. And you're welcome. Do I get an assist on that play?"